


Hawk, Hunted

by DiligentChaos



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drama, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Romance, Song Lyrics, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-27 21:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21125771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiligentChaos/pseuds/DiligentChaos
Summary: The story takes place in a yet unnamed land, where each community tries their best to survive against the elements, little to no regard to others, even less so when it comes to other races inhabiting the land. The Humans and the Wadja have known each other since time immemorial, yet they have never really come to tolerate one-another.





	1. Token

With everything going on at the Mayor’s office, Sgia doubted anyone to notice the weather.  
Mud balmed her Sun-scorched feet as she stepped down to the field. The fiery giant in the sky had reached its zenith, punishing the living and reminding them to put on a hat next time they dared to come outside.  
The air was unusually calm today, considering how high the White Staircase was compared to the jagged peaks down below. Sgia looked up to the roof of the world, only to see that clouds were nowhere to be seen.  
“Sgia! You’ll get leeches if you stay put so long”, scolded a woman a few ridges away. She had remembered to take a hat.  
“Do you know where the wind has gone?”, asked Sgia. Now that she thought of it, trees didn’t rustle their leaves and the grass remained still. It was awfully quiet without even the slightest breeze. It was rarely quiet on the Staircase.  
“Don’t you have anything better to do than loiter about?” The hat woman sighed and placed her hands firmly on her hips. The stern gaze she shot at Sgia was more or less the exact one a parent would do after catching their child doing anything else than chores.  
Sgia huffed between her teeth, lifted the basket filled to the brim with budding bundles up to rest on her hip and seemingly ignored the woman’s concern. She could feel her eyes on her neck but decided to ignore it for the time being and peered at the watchtower in the distance, hoping to catch a glimpse of a certain someone. The tower’s banners stood as still as the building itself.  
“Invite What’s-his-name over for dinner. I’ll make dumplings. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you two together.” The woman straightened her back, removed the hat and fanned herself to shrug off the oppressing heat. Her frail hair had been glued around her head with sweat, and streams of salty moisture dripped down to her shoulders. “You may be right. There is no wind.”  
Sgia shrugged, adjusting herself so that the crone couldn’t see her scarlet cheeks and attempted to focus on her task. Sapling after sapling, waiting for a hungry leech to latch onto her ankle and get fat. With enough willpower Sgia could shake the crawling nuisances out of her mind, but focusing on fieldwork in this weather seemed like an impossible task.  
The other women on the fields seemed to toil twice as hard, just to get home and spend the rest of the day indoors. The young, like Sgia, sheltered themselves by raising their wings, while the experienced matrons and elders relied upon their wide straw hats, yet everyone gleamed in sweat despite their efforts.  
“Let us pray for rain tonight, the Man Under will hear us.”  
“I’d be surprised if He as much as pissed in our general direction, Bevna.”  
“Have I ever told you how surprising it is every year not to see you on the way to be fed to Him? Such disrespect surely caused-”  
“Excuse me, Mrs. Forewoman?” The sudden voice made many of the workers halt and glance at its source. Sgia felt an urgent increase in her heart rate. A cloud of dry dust billowed around him and settled on his clothes as he landed softly on the dirt at the top of the ascending rows of water. Bevna scoffed, put her hat back on and climbed the steps to face the comer.  
“What is it, watchman? Have you been demoted to delivery boy?”, she inquired as she pointed at the letter case attached to his belt. The man lowered his eyes, trying to look less embarrassed in front of everyone.  
“I, uhm… A letter. From- from the Mayor.”  
Forewoman Bevna cocked her brow and reached her hand towards the case, but the messenger stepped back, placing his hand on the lock mechanism and lifted his gaze towards someone else on the field.  
“It’s… It’s for Sgia, actually.”  
A letter from the Mayor himself to her? By the way he said it made her feel a burn in the stomach. She discarded the sapling basket, spread her wings wide and with one muddy leap stumbled in the middle, blocking Bevna’s direct access to the letter.  
“Sgia… Hi.”  
“Hello, you”, she replied, tieing her tingling fingers behind her back just in case. It was sometimes difficult to keep hands to herself whenever he was around. He managed to form a slight smile, unceremoniously opened the case’s clasp and pulled out the scrolled letter, sealed with the Mayor’s personal marker.  
She cracked the wax holding the precious silk ribbon in place around the paper and slowly unrolled it, revealing a short burst of letters, the Mayoral stamp and a small, coin-sized token. Bevna gasped and covered her mouth.  
“I take it back, child. I take it all back…”  
Sgia picked up the token with a shaking hand, disregarding the letter altogether. The messenger snatched the paper before it touched the ground after slipping from her grasp, and quickly read the few lines aloud:  
“‘The Lottery has decided. Sgia of nest Bvadzi, will be eaten by The Man Under at dawn.’”


	2. Ain't No Mountain High Enough

“One, two, three, four…”, Bevna counted near inaudibly as her deft hands folded the dough, and Sgia had a hard time staying up to her adept speed. A lump of freshly churned butter sizzled on the pan, turning the dumplings’ bottoms as crispy as a Winter morning that pinches your cheeks. A pot of rice bubbled merrily on the fire while skewered fish roasted on the grid under the pan with a pleasing hiss. 

Gfasha sat on the other side of the cooking pit, looping and pulling a woolen thread, apparently attempting to crochet something that looked like a plump caterpillar, but his eyes wandered aimlessly around the room. Perhaps that was the reason his crochet looked like a caterpillar in the first place. Sgia could see him slyly bite his lip. 

“Why don’t you slice the meat? It might get your mind off things.” 

His fingers stopped fidgeting with the thread. 

“Hmh.” 

“Leave him be, men often get emotional.” Bevna placed the last of the dumplings on the pan and dragged the cuttingboard closer so she could chop vegetables. At the same time she tapped Sgia’s thigh and covertly gestured towards Gfasha. Sgia nodded while sidling to the other side, closer to him. 

She placed her hand gently on his knee, only to get squeezed tighly by his calloused grip. Gfasha put down his hopeless mess of thread, arranging himself so he could pull her into his arms as comfortably as possible. 

“Oh you- Go coo at eachother somewhere else! Not in my kitchen!” The Forewoman raised the knife she was holding and used it to point the couple the way out the half-way open door. “Off you go! Scoot!” 

As if the skies itself knew of what was coming, painting the horizon in crimson and a blazing continuum of reds, oranges and yellows. With the Sun crawling down to sleep for the day, the weather had the chance to cool down a bit. The screaming silence had wrapped the White Staircase into a still bubble. The only thing they could hear was eachother’s breaths and the imported fish lapping in their artificial pond below. 

Gfasha pulled her closer by the waist, staring at the voiceless cacophony of colours in the sky. His eyes darted from distant objects to the next, as if still on duty at the top of this tower. 

“Why don’t you look at me?”, asked Sgia, brushing her hand on his cheek, but he turned his head away so that her fingers swam in his dark hair. 

“I… shouldn’t have brought you the letter, I should have-”

His words were cut short by Sgia’s mouth, kneading his lips with clear intent. His sences were filled with the scent of fresh dough and the ripples sent all over his skin by careful caress. It also brought in the cold. 

“I.. I can’t… Not like this”, he uttered, pulling himself away. 

“Gfasha-”

“Just stop!” Gfasha jumped on his feet, raising his wings as a threatening halo. His trembling hands clenched into fists, but something prevented him from taking flight. “I can’t believe you are so _ fucking _ calm about this! You’re about to **die**, damnit!” The watchman let his posture melt as he covered his watering eyes. 

Sgia stood up as well, opened her arms and let them engulf him. His hands clutched desperately onto the back of her shirt, letting tears soak her bare shoulder. 

A bird swept past the tower, burning red on top of a pitch black body, making whimsical swoops and hoops in the air as if this was the last day of its life, spearing bugs into its beak. With one final spiral it landed on the roof of the Mayor’s office, bobbing its head pompously. 

“There, even the gods know about it”, Gfasha stated, cocking his head towards the woodpecker, which peered around to find itself a good tree to nest in. Sgia, however, puckered her lips in thought and scratched the back of her ear. The bird flicked its beady eye up at the tower, squawked brightly and took off towards the few trees that still stood at the edges of the White Staircase. 

“Yeah… maybe…”

“Wait, no, yes- Hey wait a minute!” He knew that glint in her eye. His feathers puffed nervously despite feeling nothing close to a chilling breeze other than the one he just had along with the realization of her thoughts. “I’m a guardian of this community, it is my responsibility to stop you!”

“I wonder when Mr. Mayor locks the windows?” She stroke her chin, a mischievous grin spreading ever wider. “I’m sure an official like yourself would know.” 

“I should lock you up for using a watchman like this.” 

“When?”

“Eight o’clock, after finishing his evening tea.” 

“Hmmh.” 

“After you.” 

They departed the tower one at a time so that they’d have enough space to properly spread their wings for the leap. Air, even stagnant, swished in their ears as the couple copied parts of the woodpecker’s earlier aerial display in case someone was watching. Everytime Sgia passed him, she would try to playfully snatch Gfasha, who in turn did his best to dodge, soon sweating from the effort. 

“Hahaha!”

After a while they slowed down, Gfasha swooping back up to the tower to secure the parameter while Sgia landed on the Mayor’s stone courtyard a bit awkwardly, nearly tripping over. Her foot scrunched on the decorative gravel surrounding the fish pond, sending sharp spikes of pain accross her leg. 

“Aahg…”, she huffed, shaking it off after a couple of limping steps. It seemed that no-one had heard her enter, so she proceeded to step up the stairs. Simultaneously Gfasha soared to the other side of the building, landing softly and silently, bare feet rooting sturdily on the grass. 

Sgia leaned in, listening for any sounds that would indicate someone’s presence, but couldn’t hear anyone. She then tiptoed to meet with her accomplice, who was squatting under an open window with flickering light sailing between the half-way closed shutters. 

“Clear?”, Gfasha whispered, raising his eyebrows to accentuate his point in the shadow of the building. Sgia nodded, took a deep breath and opened the shutters wide. She had to pull her wings tighly against her body to fit into the room, he right behind her. A quick around the room and they saw their target on a heavy table neatly covered by a silk cloth. 

“Wait, do we need keys or…?”

“How am I supposed to know? Let’s check it out first.” Sgia stepped closer to the table, raising her hand above the fabric. As her palm neared it, she could feel a cold tingling against her skin. Her racing heartbeat became to fade from her ears, slowly being replaced by a deep, empty whisper. She couldn’t make out the words, but the voice’s presence was enough to make her shiver. Gfasha pulled out his dagger from its scabbard, ready to strike whatever had started to form to the farthest corner of the room. 

A dark, formless entity, swirling its vile tendrils that resembled frozen twigs and antlers, feeling about the floor and the furniture similarly to a curious ant. It steadily grew in size, soon squeezing under the low ceiling, but didn’t seem to mind it that much, simply adjusting to its space like water. Despite it having no visible eyes, Gfasha senced it having its attention pinned to Sgia, who had grabbed the cloth ready to pull it away. 

“Are… are you the Man Under…?”, he wheezed, armed hand shaking. The handle of the dagger had started to freeze, burning him with the intensity of a frostbite. The entity emitted an eerie hum that started to sound more and more like amused snickering, yet its words remained indecipherable. 

Sgia lifted the silk, revealing a simple iron box. It was certanly unremarkable, designed to avert any curious looks. She picked it up and shook it next to her ear, trying to hear whether it had anything inside. A soft rustle of paper escaped the keyhole, confirming her suspicion. The lottery tickets. 

A short rumble of hasty footsteps interrupted the moment of clarity as the door swung open, hinges squeeking under the sudden stress, and brought in the gasping Mayor accompanied by two armed watchmen. 

“STOP! You idiot child!”

The pulsing entity cackled, reaching out one of its many tendrils, snatching the lottery box from Sgia’s numb hands and smashing it against the floor. The tickets spread out like snowflakes, some twirling in the air inviting her to pick them up. The Mayor gestured his goons to seize her, but Gfasha was faster, placing himself between her and his fellow watchmen. 

None of them dared to wound each other with blades so it came down to a grunting bout of fisticuffs on the floor. Sgia looked at the entity, which had already started to fade away into nothing, and turned to look at the Mayor. She opened her palms so that he could see the crumbled up pieces of paper. The ink their names were written with were smudged from her tears. 

Sgia.

Sgia.

Sgia, written on every single one.

“It makes no difference. Someone had to be the one”, the Mayor spoke, still shivering from the cold the entity had left behind before disappearing. 

“You voted”, Sgia gulped, slumping down on her knees. 

A sharp thud proclaimed the outcome of the brawl, Gfasha laying bruized and limp on the floor with a bloody smear spreading under the back of his head. His chest still rose as he wearily drew breath, although barely according to the painful twitching of his face. The watchmen grabbed Sgia by the arms and swiftly tied her hands behind her back. 

“You saw how eager the Man Under was to eat you… Even if I could, I wouldn’t change the outcome. Take her away.” The Mayor heaved Gfasha’s passive body aside so that the watchmen could drag Sgia to the other side of the building where a tiny cell would host her for the night. 

“Gfasha! Please don’t be dead, please! Please…” She flung as much of her weight as she could back and forth, trying to shake her captors off, only to get pushed to the ground with a foot pressing her head hard against the stone. 

\--**--

“The Man Under guides us! The Man Under delivers us!”, chanted the people of the White Staircase, dressed neatly for the occasion. The object of their admiration had manifested itself as a twisted imitation of its subjects, yet retaining its murky, unintelligible material from yesterday inside the Mayor’s office. It had spread its arms wide to receive the praise as if feeding off it, grinning from ear to ear, if you ever could call the gaping slit accross its faceless head a mouth.

Sgia was being held down by one of the watchmen by the rope pulled tight around her neck. Gfasha, still disoriented and foggy-eyed, held her hand ever so gently, afraid it might break if he squeezed too hard. His mouth was gagged since he had quite loudly expressed his opinions that morning after waking up.

The Mayor clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention, emphasizing the sound with the flapping of his wings. 

“Today’s the day again, my good people. Every year we gather here to mourn the sacrifice of one of our own, but also celebrate that our gracious protector watches over us. This year Fortune has chosen Sgia as our saviour! Sgia, bring us rain and end this unbearable heat!”

The crowd cheered and waved their arms with near-deafening volume.

All except one.

Bevna stood at the front row, completely unmoved by the Mayor’s theatrics, eyes pinned to the one thing she still cared about. There was nothing she could do and today’s events would eventually tear her apart from inside out.

“You are probably wondering why this young man is here as well. Wonder no more, for he has committed crimes against our community, against our protector, the Man Under!” The Mayor swaggered to Gfasha and kicked him in the stomach, making him bend forward. The impact wasn’t enough to seperate the couple’s grip, however, and it made the spokesperson seething of anger. 

“Blasphemer! Blasphemer!”

“Feed him to the crows!”

“Break his wings and throw him down the mountain!”

The Mayor raised his arms to quiet down the thundering crowd and assumed a charming smile. 

“Fear not. He shall spend the rest of his miserable days with _ the humans _”, he reassured, hissing the final word in disgust between his gritting teeth. “Everything is well, my good people. We don’t need to see them much longer-”

“Hkila of nest Higher-Asgag, you are a pig and a liar!” Bevna climbed up to the stage, hands on her hips with all the authority of a capable Forewoman. As such she carried a power beyond the Mayor’s grasp, especially amongst the women of the Staircase. 

“What is it that you want, Forewoman? This has nothing to do with you.” 

“Oh, is that so? My late wife’s daughter being executed in cold blood is none of my business? Is that really so?” 

“Bevna!”, cried Sgia, tugging Gfasha’s hand against her chest without realizing his awkward position, causing him to wheeze in pain. 

The Man Under shifted unnervingly, turning its freezing gaze on the frivolous display happening next to it. Its grin faded away as it started to change shape back to something less recognisable, causing the crowd to fall down to the ground in awe and fear. It seemingly had grown tired of all this and decided to hurry things along. Its void of a mouth reappeared, and for the first time its voice echoed loud and clear:

“_ You are pathetic, Mayor… I remember how your great-great grandfather squirmed like a babe in front of me, begging for mercy before I ate him. Feed me anyone if you wish to- AAAAAAAARRGH!!” _

The Man Under screamed in pain with the grip of a dagger sticking out of its blackness somewhere around the spot where its so called head had been a moment ago. 

“Run!” Sgia spread her wings wide open like fans, shoving the watchmen off their feet and pulling dazed Gfasha on his feet. While everyone was focused elsewhere, she had managed to slip her hands out of their bounds and untied his wrists as well. A dagger on one of the watchmen’s belts had been too inviting to pass up, and she felt like the Man Under had it coming. 

Gfasha planted his feet down as sturdily as he could in his current state and pulled her close. His arms wound around her into a warm, yet brief embrace which after he looked sternly into her eyes. 

“Go, I’ll be fine.” 

“Stop her! STOP HER!”, yelled the Mayor, now actually starting to sound a bit like a pig.

“You won’t lay a finger on her, you bastard!” Bevna lunged forward and tackled him while the watchmen rushed to do his bidding. 

“No! What are you doing?!”, Sgia gasped, but before she could do anything else, Gfasha grabbed her by the waist, lifted her up as lightly as a feather and hurled her from the edge of the stage.

She fell.

Beneath her awaited a jagged mountainside that would crush her bones as easily as a hand squishes a gnat. As she descended with increasing speed further and further away from the White Staircase, she could again feel the ice-cold wind howling all around her. A gush of snow punched her whole body, bright flakes prickling at her skin like tiny needles.

It occurred to Sgia that it hadn’t snowed in years in the Staircase. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Black woodpeckers were often omens of death in Finnish folklore and mythology. I like including bits like this into my stories. :3 If you have/know any interesting stuff like this, I'd be happy to look into it and perhaps include it into an upcoming chapter.  
2\. A warning: I am very fond of ending my chapters in cliffhangers.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. First chapter of this story, I'm sorry it's this short.  
2\. The Wadja (as seen here) are a humanoid species with wings on their backs. Their bones are also less dense and more flexible than Human bones. This does make them less impervious to blunt damage, however.


End file.
